Mature. Viewer Discretion is advised.
*The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.*
*This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.*
The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth...
"I fill my lungs every night. Not long to wait. And if I do this thing right. I dream of our escape." ♫ If I get high enough by Nothing but thieves.
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Mistake #1: Choosing dare.
Mistake #2: Trusting the girls.
Mistake #3: Letting Koi put me in the tiniest, hot pink miniskirt I'd ever seen.
And mistake #4: Getting into Harlow's fucking car.
"Hi."
As Harlow pulled the keys out of the ignition of his car, the headlights turned off, leaving us in complete, pitch black darkness.
Yeah, he'd driven us into the middle of the forest.
We were in a place I wasn't familiar with, and he didn't even say a word the entire way there about it. It was only about a ten minute drive, but after our conversation on the phone and after thinking about everything that I was told might go down by the girls, I was at least expecting a 'hello' or a 'hey, you don't look like a gremlin tonight.'
I mean, really, I didn't look like me.
I'd been stripped down and then dolled back up by five women who were all on my hit list, by the way.
I had sparkly eye-shadow on my eyelids and pink lip-gloss on my lips that smelled like bubblegum. I had a tiny, white, and slightly see through halter top on with a miniskirt and weird heels. They tried to take my bra for Christs' sake-I was stripped.
All for the sake of 'romance.'
I didn't think romance looked like I was about to get fucking killed in the middle of nowhere.
I honestly didn't know what I was expecting, and while the girls' had pressured me to make the text, get dolled up, and get in the car with Harlow, I almost-wanted to?
Maybe it was because I wanted for once to be bold and not be a baby or maybe it was because he was cute and fooling around was what I'd convinced myself I wanted, even with someone as awful as Harlow. But, he seemed nearly genuine on the phone, he'd practically complimented me and told me he liked what he saw.
Harlow was a lot of things, but he tended not to lie all that often.
I... wanted to see where it would go.
My curiosity got the best of me and it probably shouldn't have.
The silence was so loud.
Other than, of course, his rapid foot, tapping on the floor of the car.
He seemed off I couldn't lie.
Cause for one, he wasn't saying anything, for two, he looked like he'd ran a marathon before he came, and for three, he was just-visibly upset. There were bags under his eyes and he was picking at his nail polish, almost like he was nervous. He kept blinking, I counted thirty in twenty seconds, and I could almost hear his heartbeat.
